Photos – Page 20 – Ivor.Plumber/Poet

Under the Leaking Astrodome

Rain still falling, sun breaking through, and the sky opening into two bright arcs. A moment too rare to ignore — and one that followed me into my dreams

Under the Leaking Astrodome

Despite the steamy summer rain,
Nature beckoned me to keep walking.
The late afternoon’s overcast sky
Was her theatre’s silver screen.

Within the leaking astrodome,
I witnessed a grand mystical show.
Sunbeams were breaking clear
From behind the shrouding clouds,
And a long, majestic rainbow arch –
not just one bright rainbow ribbon,
but a magical double rainbow.

How serendipitously fortunate was I,
even if I was soaked to the bone.
Ancient mythologies say that such rare revelations,
whisper of storms clearing within the spirit.

Ivor Steven © March 2026

Who Shines On Me?

Feature Image Above: Created by Copilot and me
The moon rises quietly, guiding my cross-eyed downside away from the world’s wide landslide.

Who Shines On Me?

Who is he, who is she,
who shines on me
so forlornly?

There, from the other side
of the sky’s great divide,
where eveningtide
cannot be denied.

Then the twilight moon guided
my cross-eyed downside
away from the world’s wide
and worsening landslide.

For the quiet places where the moon lifts us beyond what we think we see.

Ivor Steven © March 2026

Crows in Moscow (a Tanka)

Featured Image Above: He calls out early, as if he knows the world is about to tilt again.

Crows in Moscow (a Tanka)

How do the crows know –
when to flee life’s undertow?
Has the status quo
been shot by stupid’s crossbow,
without talking to Moscow?

After all that swooping and shouting, a soft goodbye feels about right.

Ivor Steven © February 2026

Throwback Friday, The Last Encore (a Micro Poem)

Featured Image Above: Created by Copilot and me, A man stands at the edge of time, where the foreshore fades, and the door to the encore glows.

Today’s Throwback Friday poem (originally written in January 2024) is drawn from my upcoming book, Time Hears No Sound. It appears as the opening poem in the Micri Poem section of Chapter 10, Time’s Short Poems: Haiku, Tanka, etc.

The Last Encore

I am standing on
the diminishing foreshore
Staring at that
missing ground floor
“Like there was a door”
Between here
and the last encore

And so we stand, between here and the last encore — listening for time’s quiet applause.

Until Eyes Hear Sound

Amazon >> Amazon.com : Until Eyes Hear Sound

Lulu Books >> Until Eyes Hear Sound (lulu.com)

Perceptions:

Amazon >> Perceptions : Steven, Ivor, Knight, Derrick: Amazon.com.au: Books
Lulu Books >> Perceptions (lulu.com)

Tullawalla:

Amazon >> Tullawalla A Meeting Place Where My Empty Hands are Full of Memories and Rhymes : Steven, Ivor: Amazon.com.au: Books

OR: >> You may email me directly for a signed copy at
ivorrs20@gmail.com … and I can send you a PayPal account,
for the Book, plus Postage.

Ivor Steven © February 2026

Until Eyes Hear Sound — A Promotional Video

Until Eyes Hear Sound has already spoken through its poems, but this short video offers another way in — a quiet blend of colour, movement, and mood that reflects the heart of the book.

A Glimpse Into the Book

Across ten chapters, the collection explores nature, memory, imagination, and the questions that shape our lives. The cover’s rising birds and shifting sky mirror the book’s reflective and curious spirit.

Why a Promotional Video?

This piece serves as a gentle introduction for new readers and a companion for those familiar with my work. It offers a calm entry point and a sense of the book’s emotional palette — more an open door than a traditional trailer.

Behind the Scenes

The images echo the themes of reflection, flight, and stillness. The pacing is unhurried, allowing the mood to settle. This video will also support the broader promotional work coordinated by Gisela.

Watch the Video

A Poem from the Collection

Anomaly

I see a stone wall of sad faces
the refugees from different places
Shuffling on old, shredded boot laces
wearing tattered clothes and frozen braces

These lost cultures of opposite races
begging for water and food traces
living out of torn tents and empty suitcases
And here, people play games in cyberspaces

Until Eyes Hear Sound

Amazon >> Amazon.com : Until Eyes Hear Sound

Lulu Books >> Until Eyes Hear Sound (lulu.com)

Ivor Steven © February 2026

Summer Rainclouds

A heavy sky lingering above a thirsty summer, offering a brief, warm whisper of rain.

Summer Rainclouds

The sombre summer clouds
are languishing low overhead.
I can almost touch the greyness –
unfortunately, it’s not raining.

The aura of stillness is unsettling,
and the silence is deafening

But wait – from behind the gloom
I hear Thor’s thunderous roar,
and simultaneously, I see fat drops
warmly splattering on the ground

Ivor Steven © February 2026

A stitch in time, or: A rengay

My thanks to David, of “The Skeptic’s Kaddish,” for inviting me into this rengay. It was a pleasure to weave our lines together and watch the threads find their own shape.
>> https://skepticskaddish.com/2026/02/23/a-stitch-in-time-or-a-rengay/

A two-person ‘Rengay’

A stitch in time, or: A rengay

By Ivor and David

1 (db)
weeks before Purim—
sticky glue smears small fingers,
needles pull bright threads

2 (is)
intricate puppet costumes
tangled in the maker’s strings

3 (db)
small gnat in a web
silver threads keep their design—
the body trembles

4 (is)
the wood manikins
loose joints suddenly collapse
first aid kit required

5 (db)
eight waiting legs lose purchase
their radial craft undone

6 (is)
unfashionable
staples, glue guns, costume pins
become quick-fix threads

A little Purim mischief to echo the threads and tangled costumes of our rengay.

The Ravens Warning (a Tanka)

Feature Image Above: Created by Copilot and me.

“Ravens fly through the iron‑gate sky, carrying warnings only the attentive will hear.”

The Ravens Warning (a Tanka)

Stealthily they fly,
below the iron‑gate sky—
loud and steely‑eyed.
Ravens warn all passersby:
beware of that sly bad guy.

Under an iron‑gate sky, her voice rises like a warning carried on dark wings

Leftover Heirlooms

Featured Image Above: Created by Copilot and me

Shaped during my quiet breaks at Market Day, inspired by yesterday’s twilight and today’s steady rhythm behind the stall.

Leftover Heirlooms

I’m roaming around
the inner zone of Shadowland,
the heart of twilight’s middle ground.

Inquiringly peering down
upon the sun’s retiring nightgown.

Above her hessian costume,
the fading crescent moon
is also descending into the world’s bedroom.

Again, I am an abandoned groom
from life’s fragmented honeymoon,
here clutching nostalgia’s leftover heirlooms.

After drafting this poem during my quiet breaks at Market Day, Lisa Hannigan’s ‘Oh Undone’ felt like the perfect soundtrack to its twilight reflections.

We’re a Noisy Bunch (a Tanka)

While the café murmured below, the Corellas held their own rowdy morning meeting in the trees above me.

We’re a Noisy Bunch (a Tanka)

I’m one of many
In a flock of two twenty
I’m a Corella
And when we’re all together
We’re a loud bunch of critters

“A chorus of Corellas above the morning hum.”